


Old World Memories

by IsobelSionisFalcone



Series: Northur Snapshots [4]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Cuddles, Dancing, F/M, Red Rocket Truck Stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsobelSionisFalcone/pseuds/IsobelSionisFalcone
Summary: Arthur and Nora have their first day off in months. She tells him about some of her pre-war memories.





	Old World Memories

Orange clouds bathe their faces in the dying embers of daylight, the shadows cast by their noses made darker and longer in the evening sun. It's still warm, despite the hour, sapping both the Elder and his Knight of their will to move, beyond light, tender touches and soft caresses. His coat is draped over the back of one of the patio chairs after he'd been forced to shed it in the late summer heat, but he might as well have kept it on; Nora's seated on his lap and the warmth she puts out is as much literal as it is a part of her character. Arthur rather enjoys having her there nonetheless.

His arms loop around her waist and her head rests against his shoulder as they look out over Concord. Nora's turned the Red Rocket Truck Stop into her own living space, separate from the Sanctuary dwellers, but she's conscious of the fact that they still need help defending themselves. She's not too far away, should they need assistance. It's also a convenient excuse not to have to explain why she won't sleep in her old home. Telling Preston that she likes her own space in which to work on her power armour and modify weapons is, as Arthur understands, code for the discomfort it would make her feel. She took him there when they first arrived earlier that morning, ironically eager to begin relaxing on the only day they've had off since Nora joined the Brotherhood a few months ago. Even then, when their spirits were high and the sight of Arthur's smile brought joy to the darkest corners of her mind, Nora had taken his hand and walked him through the remains of her family life in silence. The dried and dusty skeleton of her happiness was laid to rest in that place, right beside her son's crib. Arthur was sure he could see it.

She'd squeezed his hand as he ran his fingertips along the blue wooden rail and for the first time, he felt just a little of the pain that she's been forced to live with. That was when destroying the Institute became personal. Still, she's not shared many of her pre-war experiences with Arthur and he felt rather humbled that she'd chosen to open a very vulnerable part of herself to him.

"What was it like?" he suddenly asks and gestures towards Concord. "All of this."

Nora sighs contentedly, on the cusp of sleep in the lazy evening haze. "It was a small town, a happy place to live and a convenient place for everyone over at Sanctuary Hills to do their weekly shopping," she says. "I preferred Sanctuary, though. It was more peaceful. I loved the grass verges lining the streets and the blooming flowers and trees. Concord was a little too grey for me. Too much like a city, or rather, it couldn't really decide whether it wanted to be a town or a city."

"Did you come here often?"

"Yes," she replies, linking their fingers. "We used to come down every Saturday with Shaun and buy whatever we needed; bread, milk, eggs, you name it. If I wasn't going to be extraordinarily busy working on cases, then I'd do a little clothes shopping and Nate used to take Shaun to the park over there - see it?"

She points towards the rusted shells of miniature rockets and spaceships with peeling paint. Arthur finds it hard to imagine running around with other children and playing aliens versus humans. He never had a childhood like the one Nora planned for Shaun because he was raised in the Brotherhood, born to be a soldier.

"All of these buildings," she says, "used to be perfectly intact. They had lovely wooden doors and windows and the pleasant hum of human beings. The road wasn't all cracked like it is now. We used to walk here, as it wasn't very far." Just then, she chuckles and says; "Sometimes, Nate had to go back and get the car if I bought too many clothes. When I was first here after waking up, I did a little scrounging and found some stuff in the back rooms of shops that raiders hadn't touched."

"Like what?" he asks, kissing the top of her head and running a few fingers through her hair.

"I can show you, if you like," she giggles.

Nora rises from his lap and dissappears into the office of the Truck Stop. She only leaves Arthur a few minutes to fantasise about what she looks like out of her regulation orange before she emerges again and he's positively spellbound.

When Arthur gazes at her now, he sees the beautiful pre-war woman that she never has a chance to be. A pretty red dress with a flared skirt adorns her rounded hips and breasts, the red heels seemingly elongating her now bare legs. She's even touched up her make-up and pinned her hair in a loose bun, leaving two curly, dark locks dangling down by her ears. When Nora smiles at him, she's unusually shy, a dusting of red creeping further up her cheeks.

"Well?" she says, turning so he can see every inch of her body.

His response is slow; he's too mesmerised to move quickly. He stands, blue eyes never leaving her attractive figure, and approaches with his arms outstretched to catch her hips between his large hands.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, guiding her to turn again. "Simply beautiful. I might have to arrange a formal celebration when we bring down the Institute. I should like to see this feminine side of you more often."

Nora chuckles lightly, rousing butterflies in his stomach as he imagines her cooking, walking through the park, singing sweet lullabies to Shaun and everything else he relates to life before the bombs.

"If you do, promise you'll save me a dance."

Arthur intakes a breath. "I... I was never taught to dance."

He swallows when a grin splits her cheeks. "You'd better get some practice in, then."

The entirety of the cerulean blue in his eyes is exposed as they widen in panic, but she takes her time walking to the radio, hips swaying as she displays an elegance he's never seen before. She switches it on, a slow song that Arthur can't remember whether he's heard or not begins to echo in the evening air. He's as stiff as a board when she saunters back, heels clicking delicately on the crumbling tarmac.

"It's not hard, Arthur," she reassures him. "Really, it isn't. Just put one hand here..." she guids his left hand to her waist. "And use the other to hold mine..." she clasps their free hands together. "And now you just... sway a little."

Arthur tries to move with her, but he's too tense, too conscious of an apparent loss of masculinity to move as she's telling him to.

"Relax, sweetie," Nora chuckles. "Who's going to see you all the way out here? Besides, this is supposed to our day off, remember? You could do with a little healthy sport."

"Since when us dancing a sport?" he snorts, but she's not letting it go that easily.

"Arthur, take a deep breath and let it out slowly," she advises with a gentle smile. He obeys, momentarily dropping his 'Elder' mask and she feels his muscles relax under her hands. "There," she says. "Don't you feel better now?"

He sighs and Nora gasps when he pulls her against his chest, sturdy pectoral muscles crushing her breasts. She makes a soft sound of protest before she realises they're still swaying gently, Arthur's arms enveloping her much smaller body. He rests his bearded chin on top of her head, her long strands becoming tangled.

"I want you," he murmurs. It's not an admission of sexual desire, but of emotional and physical comfort that the mother within her gives to all, even him (especially him) because he was born to lead, to be an Elder. He's never really received any affection of that kind, never been nurtured or loved in the way she loves him, so he takes a great form of pleasure from these traits in her.

Nora nuzzles his neck softly and closes her eyes, breathing in his masculine scent. What she wouldn't give to get flavour into a cigarette and smoke it all day long, the thick, white plumes the very epitome of Arthur Maxson, infused with his delightful smell...

They stay like that for some time, caught in a gentle embrace amongst the last slivers of the sun's light. Nora is truly in love with Arthur and she thinks herself lucky to have loved twice. Many don't get the chance and she knows there aren't many who'd want to enter into a relationship with a woman who still misses her dead husband, but he sees past that. Or rather, he sees more in her than just a mourning woman.

Arthur sees a beautiful and passionate individual, with skill and bravery enough to earn his respect. He's earned hers too, naturally, but not just as her superior. He's warm and loving, even though he comes across as a stern and pragmatic man, willing to forsake anything to ensure the Brotherhood's victory.

In the end, they may have their differences; a woman out of time and a leader low on social skills, but it doesn't matter when Nora can feel his heart beat through his clothes. She loves every bit of him, surrounded by her old world memories, knowing he feels the same way.


End file.
